


Addicted to You Ficlets

by Ltleflrt



Series: Hooked On Your Love [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Incubus Castiel, Kid Fic, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Warlock Dean, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 00:02:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5561008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ltleflrt/pseuds/Ltleflrt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mini fics set in the Addicted to You universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I was done writing about these guys, but my Muse is a bitch and here we are :D
> 
> Stories will range anywhere from G rated tooth-rotting fluff to explicit what-a-nice-gutter-your-brain-lives-in porn.

Dean follows the sound of screams to his son’s bedroom.  He’s not in a hurry, because they’re not _feed me now_ or _danger: full diaper_ screams.  No, these are the high pitched squeals of the supremely entertained.  Filled with a pure joy that only children can truly express. **  
**

Whatever Cas is doing to get that reaction has got to be good.  So Dean pulls his phone out and starts up the camera app just before he reaches the open door to Sammy’s room.  And thank goodness, because the sight that greets him is totally going on Facebook.

Cas is shifted into his True Form, his large frame settled into the giant beanbag sitting under the bedroom window.  Sammy is sitting in his lap, giggling madly each time his papa hides behind the edges of his starry wings and then squealing his excitement when Cas peeks out from between the feathers with a muffled “Peek-a-Boo”.

Oh sweet Jesus, Dean is pretty sure he’s developing cavities just from watching.  He taps the record button on his phone, and hopes they don’t notice him for at least a few minutes.

After a few minutes Cas leans his wings back, but Sammy decides he’s not done with the game.  His own tiny red-gold wings (in actuality they’re already each longer than Sammy is tall, but they look like miniatures next to his papa’s) flail for a few seconds before he figures out how to coordinate them enough to hide his face with them.

“Where’s Sammy?” Cas calls out in mock fear.  “Where’s he at?”

Sammy’s wings fling wide, and he throws up his hands in a _tada!_  gesture.

Cas acts excited like he really didn’t know where Sammy was, and that’s when Dean cracks and starts laughing.  Two sets of cat eyes, a glowing blue trinity and a pair of shimmering green, turn in his direction.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas greets with a warm smile that makes Dean wonder if it’s possible to overdose on affection, because he’s gotta be reaching a critical limit.  

Then Sammy let’s out another ear splitting squeal and scrambles from Cas’ lap.  He’s been walking for a few weeks, but he’s still extremely wobbly.  His wings spread to help his balance as he toddles across the room, arms held up in the universal sign for _pick me up_.  Dean shuts off his camera and pockets his phone just in time to swing his son up into his arms, earning another happy scream.

“Daddy!”

“Hey, baby boy.  What game are you playing?”

Sammy brings his wings around and covers his face with them, then spreads them straight out and shouts “Peek-a-Boo!”.  His wings are mostly gold, with tinges of iridescent red that shifts depending on the angle of the light.  Dean never gets tired of watching the play of color.  But they’re nothing compared to his son’s bright and smiling face.  

Dean laughs, and jostles Sammy in his arms.  “Can I play even if I don’t have wings?”

“Yes!” Sammy shouts.  And then he’s hiding behind his wings again, and the game has truly begun.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Touchy-feely good times :D

It’s not often Dean gets to be the big spoon. Cas can be pretty territorial about the position and has been known to growl his displeasure when Dean tries to wiggle out of his arms for any reason. Dean usually doesn’t mind. 

Being the little spoon makes him feel loved and cherished and special. He often falls asleep with Cas crooning praise in his ear, and wakes the next morning to a frisky incubus sliding its dick between his thighs. It’s pretty awesome.

But on the few occasions Cas allows Dean to be the big spoon, he takes full advantage of the position. Like now, for instance. Cas is half on his side, half on his stomach, one knee pulled up close to his stomach. His body is pliant and warm and rumbling with a quiet purr. 

Dean tucks one thigh up under Cas’ and mouths at the knobs of bone at the base of his mate’s neck. His free hand strokes the demon’s skin, trailing gentle fingers from his temple back into his hair, and over the shell of his ear. Down his neck and over his shoulder, spreading his palm out and petting the bulge of Cas’ biceps, then the outside of his forearm, until his hand is covering Cas’ loose fist where it rests in the rumpled sheets.

The volume of Cas’ steady purr goes up and down with each inhale and exhale, and Dean knows without seeing his face that his pupils are relaxed into ovals. 

Dean retraces the path up Cas’ arm, and pets down his side, smiling at how the vibration under Cas’ ribs makes his palm tingle. He continues his exploration, petting down over Cas’ flank, almost to his knee which he can’t quite reach without jostling the demon. 

Before he started eating human food, Cas wouldn’t have let Dean get away with just stroking his skin. By now, he would have rolled over and pounced Dean, kissing him until his senses are inflamed by venom, and then fucking him stupid. 

They have mind-bending sex at least a few times a day, but Cas tires more easily now. His stamina is still far above that of a human, but is not what it used to be. Dean appreciates the difference. One, it allows him to get more rest, and two, sometimes he gets to shower Cas with affection without being interrupted by sexy fun times.

He likes sexy fun times. Loves them. But he also loves Cas, and sometimes he wants to show it in non-sexual ways. He cooks whenever the demon will let him. Buys him the softest clothes so he feels more comfortable when he can’t be naked. Handmade a personalized collar for Cas to wear when they go out on hunts; one that has no binding runes, but keeps the average Joe from freaking out over a demon walking around. 

And sometimes, he curls his body around a sleepy and lethargic Cas and pets and kisses him and whispers his love against sweat scented skin. And sometimes he’ll do more, if Cas will let him.

“Cas,” he whispers against his mate’s damp hair. “Roll over onto your stomach.”

Cas’ purring hitches, but he does as he’s told. Dean rolls with him, straddling his thighs and laying over his back. His dick, still soft because multiple orgasms have been wrung out of him that day, settles in the crevice of Cas’ ass. Despite the fact that he’s probably not going to get hard again any time soon, he rolls his hips once, enjoying the friction anyway.

Then he pushes himself up, and runs his palms over the plains and valleys of Cas’ back. Cas groans when Dean digs his thumbs into the muscles between his shoulder blades, and if possible he sinks further into the mattress.

“That good?” Dean knows the answer, and he smirks when Cas’ purring resumes at a higher volume. 

He continues the massage, working the muscles of Cas’ neck and shoulders gently, then rubbing his thumbs in small circles down his back to either side of his spine. He grins when he scratches lightly over Cas’ ribs, and gooseflesh rises up in his wake. He palms the globes of Cas’ ass, spreading the cheeks and pressing them together. 

“Cas,” he says again. “Can I see your wings?”

They materialize immediately, first stretching wide to either side of the bed, then folding up until the long flight feathers brush the outside of Dean’s thighs. He stares at them, watching a galaxy spin through space for a few minutes before finally reaching out to comb his fingers through the feathers. 

They are soft and cool to the touch, and every time they ruffle up under his hands the scent of honey and cloves puffs up from them. He can feel his mind going fuzzy around the edges as he inhales the pheromones, and his movements become slower and more deliberate.

He digs his fingers up under the feathers until he finds warm flesh and solid bone and he massages first the left wing from shoulder to tip, then the right wing. He finds the oil glands, and squeezes them gently until his fingers are coated in the slippery substance. 

It shines on his skin with a strange rainbow hue, like gasoline on water, and he knows from experience that it tastes like Cas’ slick only thicker and stronger. He’s only done this once before, at Cas’ request. Grooming his black feathers until they were glossy with oil. 

That evening had ended with one of the roughest dickings Dean has ever been on the receiving end of. Considering that he’s mated to a sex demon, that’s saying something.

But for now their bodies are sated, and he’s able to enjoy the grooming session without the burning urgency to finish so that they can fuck. He works the oil over each feather, using two hands for the huge primary feathers. He pinches the smaller feather between his fingers, gently pulling at them until they are coated. And he gently ruffles the downy feathers on Cas’ back where the wings sprout from either side of his spine. 

He grooms until Cas’ glands no longer produce oil, and then he resumes massaging. 

As the oil seeps into his own skin, his hands begin to tingle, and it begins to spread up over his wrists and his arms. It’s almost as if his arms have fallen asleep, only pleasant. He can feel it all the way up to his shoulders by the time he finishes the massage.

And he’s not surprised to find that he’s hard and throbbing by the time he’s done. He grips himself with one hand, and the tingle from his palm spreads to his dick. It only takes a few strokes before he’s coming, and bursts of semen splash between Cas’ wings.

“Fuck,” he gasps. “I made a mess all over your wings, Cas.”

They flap open and up, almost as if he’s about to take flight. And then he’s dislodging Dean and reversing their positions. Cas leans down over Dean’s back and whispers in his ear.

“Don’t worry, I know how you can make it up to me.”

It turns out Cas isn’t nearly as worn out as Dean thought he was.


End file.
